Pulling Evil
by Jericho Wilson
Summary: For Joseph Wilson, the pull had always been there. A oneshot about Jericho.


For Joseph Wilson, the pull had always been there.

The pull of evil was something he had first noticed on the third week after ascending his mountain. He was the guardian of the villages below, always there and ready to help at the slightest sound of noise. If a villager was being attacked silently then they only had to kick around and thrash enough for his enhanced hearing to pick up the odd sounds.

The pull had become present when he'd been just about to take down a thief dressed head to toe in black gear with only his sharp grey eyes visible from the small slit in his mask. For a moment Joey had hesitated, a feeling sweeping over him that made him very nearly step back and allow the criminal to get away. Good had overruled bad in that situation, and he had quickly regained his senses.

But the pull still remained, buried deep within him. Even to this day while he surrounded himself with all these modern teen superheroes who had no qualms about doing the right thing in any situation. They prided themselves on being heroic and working for the greater good of every human in their city.

So why couldn't he just go along with them?

He knew the answer really. It was just something he preferred never to let himself think about, because remembering brought up unpleasant memories and emotions that someone (probably Raven, the sly demoness who he'd learned to fear very quickly) would pick up on and single him out. If they knew the truth, he would no longer be a Titan. Well, maybe they would forgive him for his parentage based on just what they'd seen him do. But if they ever found out about the pull they wouldn't even risk trusting him.

Would they discard him onto the street, or take the effort in throwing him back on his mountain where he'd have incredible difficulty getting away from to become evil? He guessed the second. Robin was a smart leader, and a paranoid one too. He'd seen enough of the evidence room to realise that the leader and most important member of the Titans would be the least sympathetic towards him.

The all too familiar mask mounted on the wall taught him that.

He still remembered the first day when they had grouped together to analyse the villains they would most likely be fighting in Jump City and their weaknesses. Everyone had to be completely clued in on the world of the Teen Titans to be a superhero. They had to commit every villain to memory so they knew how to stop them in even the most desperate situations. This was _serious _business.

All Robin's words, of course. The rest of the Titans were sick to their back teeth (and weren't afraid of bringing it up) of the constant knowledge checkups and the work that was reminiscent of a school, for those who had been unfortunate enough to end up there in the past.

Anyway, it was in that first lesson that they brought up the file of the villain Slade. Nemesis of the Teen Titans, powerful, elusive, and, most importantly, a completely empty file. A file that Joey could fill up completely with just a few signed out sentences.

But he wasn't Joey anymore. He was Jericho. The superhero Jericho who knew nothing of the villain Slade other than his name (and seriously, the man was just teasing the Titans with that name. It wasn't even Deathstroke anymore; it was his _real name_). He had no affiliations with Slade anymore, and so was not evil in any way whatsoever.

But Joey Wilson was. He felt the pull, and he felt the connection to the masked man on the screen whenever it happened to flash on in a lesson dedicated to more villain analysing. The worst part was that whenever he saw the face, he remembered every good memory. That mask saving his life in the incident when he lost his voice; the face behind the mask leaving for work with a grin and a wave; the man behind the mask passing him his birthday present, and the man behind the mask hugging him before bed.

Every pleasant situation happened when the mask was off and there was only white hair and two piercing blue eyes. What was left of that father was gone, and was now nothing but a one-eyed mask willing to kill anyone or anything that got in his way. He had to remember that he was gone for good and dead to the world. He had to separate himself from Joey Wilson's painful past.

He kept his family photos hidden under the mattress (not that they'd ever recognise the seemingly normal father and older brother) and his emotions deep down inside. Every Titan had their secrets that they couldn't reveal to the team without the ultimate level of trust, and for Jericho it was (much like a lot of others) his past.

He would often bring his attention over to Raven during group meetings. She was the daughter of pure evil, and had her own side that was sat waiting to be let loose to kill. But Raven had a good heart, and suppressed the evil within her by replacing it with her pride at being a hero who saved civilians. She never experienced this pulsing doubt in her brain that reminded her she wasn't supposed to be on that side.

He just needed closure; a reason for this distress.

* * *

The woman stared out across the bay, her expression dark and brooding. A cigarette was held between her lips, letting puffs of smoke be pulled into the strong breeze whipping up around her.

She gave a heavy sigh and removed the cigarette from her lips.

"I see your problem, Joey. But you're thinking too much about _him, _and not enough about _you,_" She spoke out into the silence in answer to the young boy beside her.

He looked over at her in silent confusion.

"You keep thinking about whether or not you should be evil like him, right?" He nodded. "I doubt it's even crossed your mind that you should be thinking about what you _want _to be. Not what you're _meant _to be." She turned to him and placed her free hand on his shoulder.

"Joey, you've always been a good kid. You're my son, and I wouldn't have it any other way. But this is _your _choice now. I'm not trying to influence your decision, but I can't for a second picture you being happy being evil, like your father." She patted his shoulder twice, then gazed back across the golden, sunset lit water.

"I should go. I'm not supposed to be here, and neither are you. Go back to your friends. I trust by the time you're down those stairs you'll have made your decision." She turned away from her son, trying to ignore the way his eyes pleaded for answers that she couldn't give him. She was no use to him now that he had left her for the Teen Titans. She slipped through the fire escape door, leaving the boy to stand alone with the view.

Jericho turned slowly as he let the words run through his head. His mother always _had _been able to calm him down like no one else, and, in just a few words, had unscrambled the mess of thoughts littering his mind. The answer now stood out in his mind, clear as day and he felt stupid for even doubting himself.

The door slammed shut as he began to descend the stairs from the roof to the main room, where the other Titans would be sitting. When he got into that room, he knew what he was going to have to do.

"Hey! Jericho, you're missing the movie! Where've you been?" He was met by the shout as the door slid open and he walked in. He raised his hands to sign in response.

_I've got something to tell you. Something important._

The other Titans stopped and turned. Beast Boy reluctantly pressed pause.

_This is about my past and my family. What I'm about to tell you might make you doubt my loyalty to the team – no, it'll convince you I'm your enemy – but please just remember I want to be a Titan. I'm _not _a villain._

The others stared at him expectantly, their eyes showing curiosity and shock.

_I guess I should start with my father..._

He was truly a Titan now, not the confused boy feeling the pull of evil. But if he were to completely commit to being a superhero, he had to lay out his life. His weaknesses, his family, even the pull he had felt for that brief time of doubt.

To be a Titan, they had to trust him.


End file.
